


Of any other Name

by wander_ful



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Nicknames, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wander_ful/pseuds/wander_ful
Summary: A knee injury was all it took for them to lose their balance.Or alternatively, what happens if Oikawa stops calling Iwaizumi Iwa-chan?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 92





	Of any other Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic. It was just an idea that I couldn't, for the life of me get rid of.

“Where the fuck is he?” Oikawa can hear Iwaizumi before he sees him, the few moments between hearing him and getting confronted is the only time he needs to school his pain-ridden features into something more neutral. 

He barges into the change room fuming, lips set in a scowl and glare cold enough to freeze Oikawa in place. 

“What were you thinking?” He says, his surprisingly calm voice only betrayed by the shuddering breath he takes right after. He ran here, Oikawa thinks absently. 

Oikawa holds his hands up defensively, offering up his best smile, “I just got a little carried away nothing to wo-”

“Bullshit.” He cuts Oikawa off while heading towards him, “Let me see it.”

He slinks away from Iwaizumi’s touch as best as he can, his injured leg protesting aggressively. He tries to hide his wince but the look his best friend gives him is enough to know that he didn’t do quite a good job. 

“It’s fine really, I’ll take it easy for a couple of days and it’ll be as good as new.”

Iwaizumi frowns down at him, his face is no longer angry, just concerned and a touch disappointed, “I’ve heard that excuse the past three times you’ve done this,” he sits beside Oikawa and grazes his finger gently against the swell of his right knee, “one of these days it’s not going to get better, and then what?”

Oikawa keeps his eyes trained on Iwaizumi’s finger, hypnotized by the touch but mainly to hide from the fact that he’s too ashamed to meet his best friend’s eyes, “This time I promise, I’m not going to overwork myself,” he says, hoping the earnestness in his voice is clear, “I can control myself, you have my word, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi is unreadable, it’s concerning, for having known someone since they were practically infants, they’ve both gotten terrifyingly good at picking up each other’s nonverbal queues, but not being able to, that’s even more terrifying. 

“We’re not five anymore,” Iwaizumi moves away from him, hands curled tightly against his school uniform pants, “I’m not “Iwa-chan” and you’re not invincible.”

“I know, I know,” He says flippantly, “it’d be unfair to you if I was invincible, I know your age is catching up to you.”

“Oikawa, I’m serious-”

“I am too,” Oikawa abruptly declares, his eyes harden up towards his ace’s face.

Iwaizumi stares back, a challenge in his eyes, “Really? Because you’ve said this every fucking time you've done this and here we are...again.”

“I can take care of myself, just a little longer, and I’ll be able to send you balls that will be practically impossible to block” Oikawa counters, he hopes Iwaizumi can see how hard he’s training not just for himself but the both of them.

“Why do you hold yourself to these insane standards?” His voice has gone soft, “haven’t you thought that if you keep doing this you won’t be able to send any tosses to me, or anyone else?”

He understands, he _understands_ that his entire volleyball career is reliant on his body. Despite all the injuries, self-sustained or not, he knows that. It’s entirely frustrating to see Iwaizumi lose faith in him, sure not in his skills, but it doesn’t matter, it _hurts_. Oikawa’s petty, it’s no secret and mixed with his anger it flares ungracefully, “I know that, Iwaizumi.” He grits out and turns to grab his stuff and leave. The pain is his knee is still present, but against the rush in his head, it feels like nothing. 

He doesn’t get very far with his limp, Iwaizumi manages to meet him at the change room door, blocking his only way out.

“Move, I have to go home and _rest_ ,” Oikawa demands, it’s weak though, he’s both physically and emotionally exhausted. 

Iwaizumi seems to have some internal battle within himself, Oikawa thinks briefly that he might get forced down onto the bench again but Iwaizumi just sighs and steps out of the way. He hobbles through the door, his leg still protesting against every step.

“Let me take your bag,” Iwaizumi calls out, hand already outstretched.

Oikawa doesn’t grace him with an answer but relinquishes his hold on the strap against his shoulder. Iwaizumi takes his newly freed hand and pulls it over his own shoulder, he doesn’t say anything more either. 

They walk home like that, like every other day but a lot slower and even though their sides are practically glued together, the rift between them feels larger than ever. 

* * *

Oikawa keeps his promise, even if it feels like every minute he’s on the bench is another mile further behind his competition. He takes an entire week off and after peppering in some light exercises Oikawa takes his rightful place back on the court again. His knee is still tender from time to time but he forces himself to head to the change room with everyone else after practice and give himself the rest, deep down, he knows he deserves. After this last injury, Iwaizumi was no longer the only one keeping an eye on him and having half a dozen eyes corral him away from the net is enough to keep him in check. 

He still talks to Iwaizumi like how they used to, they sync perfectly on court, but one thing changes, maybe insignificant to any outsider but it upends Oikawa’s world. A monster of his own creation, he stops calling him Iwa-chan. And it doesn’t seem Iwaizumi minds at all, that’s somehow the worst part. So he continues living like nothing is out of place because technically, nothing is.

Into the end of his first week back from his injury Oikawa slips up, on court, in a practice match. “Iwa-chan!” He calls as his hands leave the ball.

Iwaizumi even engrossed in the passion of the game stumbles in his run-up and fumbles the hit, it barely grazes the tips of his fingers and lands squarely on their side of the court. They haven’t messed up this badly in a while. The coach calls for a time out and Oikawa berates himself the entire way back to the bench.

“I’m sorry.”

Oikawa whips his head around and his eyes land on Iwaizumi’s form, tension radiates off his body, so evidently that it almost takes on a corporeal form.

He laughs, “It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have called you that, I won’t make that mistake again.”

“No it’s-” Iwaizumi begins but the coach cuts him off.

The team huddles together as the coach points out errors in their play in the past couple of rallies and ends with a few words of motivation. Oikawa restates the coach’s points to the rest of the team as they cheer and break off back onto the court. As Oikawa jogs back to his position against the net Iwaizumi passes by him and claps him on the back, “Meet me at the gate after.”

When the whistle blows again, Oikawa doesn’t have the luxury of focusing on what Iwaizumi just said instead he throws himself into the game, his intensity even more ferocious than before. The only time his head resurfaces is when he sets the ball for his ace - _not his he reminds himself-,_ the ball is always perfect for him, but he’s sure to never be caught up enough to slip up again. 

After a torturously long rally, Iwaizumi lands a disgustingly perfect shot down the sideline, Seijoh snatches the victory by a narrow margin, but a victory nonetheless. 

In the change room, with the high of a hard-fought win still simmering in his system, Oikawa briefly forgets why there’s still a churning in his stomach. Oikawa changes slowly, deliberately so that he’s sure the rest of the team will be gone when he meets Iwaizumi outside. They always leave practice together, but sometimes Hanamaki and Matsuwaka tag along and Oikawa couldn’t risk it this time. 

Iwaizumi stands statue-esque against the gate, hands tucked deep into his pockets, ears tinted pink from the winter air. Oikawa walks over to him soundlessly and knocks their shoulders together. 

“Hi.” OIkawa greets awkwardly.

His best friend slowly brings his gaze up from his boots, eyes carefully studying Oikawa’s face. He tries unsuccessfully not to flush under Iwaizumi’s scrutinization and hopes the colour on his cheeks can be passed off as a product of the cold instead. Iwaizumi seems to be searching for something on Oikawa’s face or in his expression, whatever it is he doesn’t find. With a ‘tch Iwaizumi turns and starts stalking down the path to their houses.

Oikawa rushes to catch up, “Oi, what was that for?”

“I’m sorry.” 

He wants to believe that Iwaizumi’s apologizing for ditching him at the gate but he knows better.

He still indulges his naivety, “You should be, leaving me out in the cold and the dark like that. Who knows what could happen to people as pretty as me in those situations.”

Iwaizumi scoffs, “We both know that’s not what I’m talking about Shittykawa,” he replies, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, I’m an open book,” Oikawa says, arms spread out.

He sees Iwaizumi fidget minutely out of the corner of his eye, it’s weird seeing his childhood friend nervous, after all, he was always Oikawa’s rock, strong for him when he couldn’t be.

“Why did you stop calling me Iwa-chan?” He asks.

Oikawa had a feeling he was going to ask, but he can’t help but feel taken aback, “Because you asked me to?” It isn’t a question but it comes out as one.

Iwaizumi sighs, “I was worried Oikawa, I just needed to get through to you,” he explains, “you know I didn’t mean it right?”

Oikawa shrugs, “It doesn’t matter, like you said it’s probably better this way.”

“Better this way, what kind of shit are you going on about?” Iwaizumi says, confused.

Oikawa stares towards the sky, the urge to cry suddenly incredibly strong, “I mean we’re not kids anymore, I should start calling you something to reflect your old age right?”

Iwaizumi snorts humorlessly, “But is that what you want?”

“Is that what you want?” Oikawa counters.

He’s silent, Oikawa takes it a sign of agreement, “Okay that’s what I tho-”

“No,” Iwaizumi says, voice steady, “Fuck, I don’t want to be just Iwaizumi to you. I want to be special to you because you are so, SO important to me. This is the first and last time I’m ever going to ask so be sure to soak it up because I know you want to, Oikawa, I want you to call me Iwa-chan.” It comes out in a rush, Oikawa almost misses parts of it.

He's too stunned to even come back with a witty retort. 

“Goddammit say something Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi huffs.

“Why is my nickname so terrible when you get such a nice one from me, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa replies, with a smile bright enough to illuminate the entire neighbourhood.


End file.
